


Darkness Shot with Silver

by Kalira



Series: Harry/Draco Drabbles [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Lord Harry Potter, Dark fluff, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-02-01 11:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12704451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Alternate universe stories about Dark Lord Harry Potter and his Consort Draco Malfoy. (The drabbles are mostly standalones. Some of them are less 'Dark Lord' and more just 'dark'. Some are lighthearted or even silly. All of them include a Harry and Draco mutually in love.)





	1. Displeasure

**Author's Note:**

> These stories may have little in common other than that there is some form of Dark Harry in all of them, and Draco is happily in love with Harry, darkness and all (and Harry with him in return). There might be torture, blood, and mayhem, but the main couple are very much in love with each other and happy together. That's how I roll.
> 
> The first drabble in this series was written back in March of 2010 as part of a larger series of Harry/Draco drabbles on FF.net. I chose to 'port them to AO3 as their own themed collection here. Some are closer to vignettes, some have a bit more story to them, but all are 100, 200, or 300 words precisely.

“And _I_ think you should tread more carefully, lest you incur my . . . displeasure.” Harry stepped into the room, speaking calmly - easily interrupting the youngest Weasley boy’s incoherent shouting.

Draco chuckled, the sound echoing from where he was sprawled elegantly on the ornate silver throne at the other end of the room.

Harry strode past the now-gaping Weasley and jumped easily up to the dais, kissing his lover lightly before stepping away to sit, knees wide, on his own carved onyx throne.

Draco tilted his head back, looking at Harry upside-down. “So what are you going to do with the idiot?”


	2. Unrelaxed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted May 31st 2012.

Seamus wakes hearing the sounds of desperate, yet muffled, sobs, and a quiet voice murmuring.

“You should relax. . .”

The voice is coaxing, soft - should be soothing, but something tugs at Seamus’ nerves.

He tries desperately to think, delve through whatever is fogging his mind, some part of him is trying to remember- A gentle hand distracts him.

“There we go.” The touch removing his blindfold is accompanied by a sophisticated, smooth voice.

Seamus blinks rapidly, eyes taking too long to focus, and then his mind goes blank, confused, as he simultaneously recognises the first voice - that was Harry! - and identifies Malfoy above him.

Seamus has no idea why they are working together, but he’s relieved, despite the still-worrying tug of memory.

“You really should.” Harry’s voice comes again, this time . . . _amused_?

Malfoy is helping Seamus sit up, and he nods in thanks, expecting things will become clear.

Horrifyingly, they do.

“See, the knife goes in so much easier that way, don’t you agree?” Harry continues, still in that soft, coaxing tone. “Oh, and now look. Lodged all the way in bone. Have you any idea how hard it is to get out again? Not to mention the blade gets nicked. . .”

Seamus chokes on bile, forcing himself to swallow and breathe, as he looks at the slight figure of his partner, transfixed through the shoulder, Harry kneeling in a puddle of blood drawn from his other injuries.

“Finnigan doesn’t seem to remember why he’s here, nor, judging by his shock, much else from the past five years, love.” Malfoy says, urging Seamus - whose limbs are shaky and uncooperative - to Harry’s side, where he collapses.

Harry grins, rearranging the blood spattered on his face, and pulls Malfoy down to kiss him, both ignoring the blood, even as it smears between their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NaNo friend challenged me to write this - dark, bloody, disturbing, confusing, and using the knife line from an adopt-a-line villain thread in the 2011 NaNo forums.


	3. Scarecrow Sentries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published October 23rd, 2012 - it was the first in a series of 13 daily Dark Harry drabbles I posted then. The others will follow here.

Harry raised a brow at the pair of newer recruits lounging against the wall, rather than standing properly at guard. They were also talking.

Neither of those disturbed Harry much, as long as the men remained alert to their surroundings and investigated possible breaches.

Harry tapped two fingers against his opposite arm, waiting for them to notice him. He’d already sent a discreet Patronus instructing two _experienced_ Caligati to investigate, but without quieting the Ward.

Fifteen minutes later, he was remembering he had a pouty Consort to soothe, and the pair still hadn’t so much as glanced his way.

Harry scowled. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, tone light and conversational, stepping forwards.

Both men spun towards him, but neither seemed to have anything to say.

“Ah, I see I am. I also see, by the bright orange light behind you, that there is a disturbance on the Ward-Lines.” Harry continued. “Is there a reason you-”

“Oh! The alert’s on!” Carson yelped. “I’ll go and-”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It is dealt with. Through none of your efforts, as it was disturbed an hour ago.”

“Oh, come on. The one set up to the orange light even goes off for _birds_.” Markeson protested.

Harry raised a speaking brow. “Then perhaps you ought to have been out there playing scarecrow. It clearly would have been a better use of your - and I use the word _lightly_ , I assure you - _talents_! Perhaps you’d be more useful. . .” He raised his wand.

A pair of fine-boned hands slid around his shoulders. “Love? Why aren’t you in bed?” Draco asked, pressing against Harry’s back. “Deal with them in the _morning_.”

Harry allowed his wand to sag as Draco kissed his neck. He sighed. “Dungeons.” he instructed, and the Caligati who had followed Draco saluted, smirking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caligati is Latin for Soldiers, and is what this Harry calls his followers, of course.
> 
> This one was inspired by #67 from Peter Anspach’s Evil Overlord List:  
> ✦ No matter how many shorts we have in the system, my guards will be instructed to treat every surveillance camera malfunction as a full-scale emergency.


	4. Trusted Lieutenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 24th, 2012.

Harry growled quietly through his teeth as he inspected the newest reports from his spies within the Ministry and the Resistance forces.

“Sir, your . . . Trusted Lieutenant is here to speak with you?”

Harry almost laughed, despite his preoccupation with the problems before him, even as he saw Draco rolling his eyes. “Yes, Carlson.” he told the obviously uncertain young man. “Let her in.”

Luna wafted in, looking distractedly upwards, more _through_ the ceiling than _at_ it, and waved absently at Weingarten.

“Hello, Luna.” Harry said.

“Luna.” Draco echoed, with a tight nod. “May I pour you a drink?”

“Oh, yes please. Have you any milk?” Luna said, still looking at the ceiling.

Draco blinked in surprise, but shrugged elegantly, and stepped out of the room, presumably to fetch milk.

“Thank you!” Luna called.

“What have you to tell me?” Harry asked, taking Luna’s outstretched hand and bringing her closer to the table.

“The battle goes not well. Your elite are still holding their own, but they need support. Or to regroup.” Luna said, her voice as calmly dreamy as ever.

“Damn it.” Harry said flatly. “Mark it out for me?” he invited.

Luna’s hands drifted across the maps and papers, clearing a space - by shoving them to the floor, which prompted a few shocked noises and aborted movements towards the table from the other Caligati nearby.

Harry leaned over the table and inspected the glowing silver-blue lines Luna’s fingers left floating a centimetre above the surface.

“Damn it.” Harry said again, with feeling. “Barker, pull them back. Carefully, but everyone is back to safe territory in _three days_.”

Barker hesitated, but only infinitesimally, before he gave a half-bow and darted out of the room.

“On her word alone?” Weingarten asked.

“She _is_ his Trusted Lieutenant.” Draco drawled. “Your milk, Mademoiselle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can just see Luna floating along in Harry's wake if he did become a Dark Lord - and I think she would make a very good, if odd, Trusted Lieutenant for him.
> 
> Again inspired by one from Peter Anspach’s Evil Overlord List, this time #37:  
> ✦ If my trusted lieutenant tells me my Legions of Terror are losing a battle, I will believe him. After all, he's my trusted lieutenant.


	5. Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 25th, 2012.

“You know, one of my trusted Venatores called me stupid to my face.” Harry murmured, tracing his fingers over one high cheekbone as he removed the gag.

Draco spat out several lingering threads. “Did you ever think perhaps they’re right? If you trust them presumably there’s a reason.” he snorted.

Harry grinned and slid the blindfold away too, flicking his fingers and watching the rest of Draco’s bindings fall away.

“Well. My _most_ trusted just giggled and said something about Venus being in retrograde with . . . something. So I thought it was probably all right.” Harry said casually.

“Really?” Draco said dryly, twisting slightly aching wrists as he stood. “That’s what you’re going with?”

Harry cupped Draco’s jaw and stepped in tantalisingly close. “Well. . . There was some discussion of my . . . fascination. Quietly, of course, and only among the newer hands.”

Draco inclined his head in a manner that invited Harry to keep talking, either for the slim chance of improving Draco’s opinion, or, more likely, tripping himself up for Draco’s pleasure.

“I was reminded that however gorgeous someone opposing me is, there is almost certainly someone more attractive who _doesn’t_ want me dead.” Harry continued obligingly. “Apparently I should remember that before ordering a prisoner to my bedroom.”

“Oh?” Draco said, stepping a fraction closer.

“I,” Harry paused, dragging his nose along Draco’s jaw, “said they were underestimating exactly _how_ gorgeous you were.”

Draco sighed, arms sliding around Harry’s shoulders. “Well. . .” he hummed.

Harry kissed him quiet, and Draco smiled into it, tugging Harry’s hair.

When Harry pulled away, Draco brushed their noses. “You know, while in this case she had relevant information, you should not usually take Luna’s astronomy as a major decision-making influence.”

“No?” Harry said, calm expression cracking.

“I’m so happy to be back home.” Draco pressed closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Venatores is Latin for Hunters, used here by Harry for his followers, of course.
> 
> Normally ordering a prisoner to one's bedchamber would be a key idiot mistake on a villain's part, but when the prisoner is one's own rescued lover (who was perhaps undercover infiltrating the enemy) I think the rules are different. ;)


	6. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 26th, 2012.

Draco whimpered quietly, one hand twitching limply on the floor by his hip as the other clutched his ribcage, trying to staunch the blood sliding around his fingers.

“Ah, there we are, my pretty little bird!”

Draco would have cringed, if he had the strength.

“Good news!” the flighty little man leaned close. “My pretty little bird is going to catch me a great . . . big . . . hawk.” he breathed.

Draco whimpered again, eyes darting to the worrying grin.

“Won’t that be fun?”

Draco’s eyes closed, fingers tightening against his side as fresh blood leaked past, almost scalding on cold skin.

“Oh, yes indeed.”

Draco laughed quietly, uncaring of the stabbing pains it caused. The new voice was dark and menacing and it soothed Draco, his heart fluttering.

“But, I suspect, only for me.” Harry said, caressing the sharply-pointed tip of his wand as he stepped off the stairs behind Draco’s shocked captor.

Draco tried to raise his left hand to his side, but gasped in pain and dropped it just as quickly.

“You’re the only one left, you know.” Harry said conversationally. “Everyone upstairs? All dead. You really shouldn’t have taken what is _mine_.”

Draco grinned fiercely.

“You think those are my only men? Think I _care_?”

“Some ‘good guy’.” Harry smiled tightly. “Aren’t _I_ supposed to be the callous one? In any case.” He clapped his hands. “When I kill you, everyone wearing your sigil will die.”

Draco’s captor whirled to confront Harry - and met the point of Harry’s wand, shrieking. A fresh coat of red soaked into the much-varnished wood.

“You are _mine_ , Draco Malfoy, and no one can take you from me.” Harry snarled, kneeling and gathering Draco close.

Draco nuzzled against Harry’s neck and submitted to creeping blackness. Nothing could touch him, here in his lover’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, kidnapping or harming the loved ones, few as they may be, of dark lords and other such powerful, amoral people . . . unwise. (Suddenly I'm put in mind of Netflix's Castlevania. >.>)


	7. Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 27th, 2012.

Harry twitched as a silvery terrier bounded _through_ him.

He looked up with a disappointed expression. “You. . . You really thought I’d use _Dementors_?” he asked, gesturing with his wand hand, which made Ron and the three men accompanying him jump.

“I thought you were supposed to _know_ him, Weasel.” Draco’s smooth-as-silk voice was sweet, a tone that made even the experienced  Caligati wary. “I mean, really. Dementors? _Harry?_ ”

“Draco knew to use them against me when we were _arch-enemies_ at school, don’t you remember, Ron?” Harry asked sadly.

The terrier trotted slowly back to Ron’s side, fidgeting, and disappeared.

“He still hates the things - can’t blame him, really. I don’t care for them myself.” Draco’s nose wrinkled and Harry was hard-pressed not to grin. “And while they would certainly add a certain flair, they’re so . . . ragged.”

Harry laughed, tempted to conjure a chair and just watch his Consort befuddle their opponents into submission.

“No, no.” Draco said firmly, shaking his head. “I just can’t approve. But that isn’t why I would never expect to find them in Harry’s domain.”

Ron looked incensed, to Harry’s continuing amusement - Draco always had been able to wind Ron up with nigh-upon no effort.

“And I should just _know_? The man I knew _never_ would have done the things that- that _he’s_ done!” Ron bellowed.

“Point, love.” Harry interjected. “That Harry certainly would not have regularly shagged you senseless.”

Draco gave him a frosty look, but Harry pouted, eyes wide, and it melted swiftly.

“Indeed.” Draco said. “But that is the whole of the aberrant behaviour. Really? You think _your Harry_ wouldn’t have done . . . what? Hunted down those who oppose him? Killed when he must, stopping things of which he does not approve?”

Ron yelled something frustrated and wordless, and Draco raised his hands slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caligati, once again, is Latin for Soldiers, and is used here as a term for Harry's followers.


	8. Faithful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 28th, 2012.

“What are you _doing_?” Hermione demanded shrilly.

Draco made a sharp, abortive gesture with his right hand, but ignored her otherwise, dragging a stumbling stranger along with a tight grip by his collar.

“Let me go!”

Neville smiled apologetically, but didn’t loosen his grasp on Hermione’s arms. “I . . . don’t think it would be a good idea to interrupt him right now.”

“But. . . What is he _doing_ at- at Harry’s grave?” Hermione’s soft voice broke. “And-”

Draco hauled the man - who had a good two stone on him - over the marker for Harry’s grave, bending him backwards and incanting something liquid and complex.

Neville wrapped an arm around Hermione’s waist as she gasped and began struggling, glad he had remained to keep an eye on her after the service.

Draco’s lips pulled back, and he snarled a few more words, drawing the tip of his wand down from the man’s brow over his face, along his throat, to rest near his heart.

Draco stabbed forwards, piercing the man’s heart before he had a chance to scream.

Draco stepped back as the man gurgled quietly, once, and sank down, blood flowing out and soaking, unnaturally quickly, into the earth covering Harry’s coffin.

Ten minutes later, the bleeding was stopped, and the body itself somehow vaporised.

Draco paid little mind to the nearly-silent whimpering from Hermione, still caged in Neville’s arms. He flicked his eyes to Neville, who nodded solemnly. Neville had always been one of Harry’s most faithful followers. Even in the bloodiest, darkest of decisions.

Draco carefully incanted, inscribing a spiral over Harry’s grave with his wand.

It shifted in a way that made the eye ache, and suddenly Harry climbed up a spiralling track to the grass beside Draco, who actually dropped his wand to throw himself into Harry’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What kind of consort would allow death to take his lord permanently?


	9. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 29th, 2012.

Draco paced through the Audience Hall, avoiding broken bodies and scorched bloodstains as he made for the cracked black stone of the imposing throne.

He frowned slightly, recognising the pattern - Harry’s own spells gone wild, _purposely_ , if Draco didn’t miss his guess - and promptly decided to ensure the replacement was even larger and more ornate.

Harry needed to accept certain things. One being that he had to fulfil the _look_ of his position as Dark Lord, as well as the letter.

A nervy woman held a shaking wand on him as he passed her. “Don’t- Don’t come any closer!” she demanded tremulously.

Draco turned disdainful eyes on her. “You may reclaim your dead.” he said imperiously, face impassively icy. “ _I_ will do the same.”

“But- I- We- No! This battle is over and we _won_ , damn it, and-”

Draco raised his voice and his wand, everyone who still breathed turning to look. “This is _my home_ , and I allow you this _one_ courtesy. If you refuse it, then just _get out_!”

The woman squeaked and drew back, and by some silent agreement, everyone worked much more quickly, and soon only the slim, black-swathed figure sprawled at the edge of the dais was left amidst blood and blackened stone.

Draco sank to the edge of the dais, a metre from the spreading blood of the only body on the dais itself. Dramatic. Draco approved.

A jet black snake uncoiled from beneath the limp form. Draco raised an eyebrow at the swirl of smeared blood left behind it.

“You are not coming _near_ me again until you are no longer covered in blood. And you’ve washed off the Eau de explosion.” Draco said dryly.

Harry hissed companionably and stretched into himself before dismissing the simulacrum casually. “As you wish, always, my lovely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes turning into a snake helps? Depends on what you're trying to do, I expect.
> 
> (Referencing the Evil Overlord List; #34 is "I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.")


	10. Proper Exploration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 30th, 2012.

Draco follows Harry silently, though he looks around curiously as they move, making mental notes on things that will need changing, and those which are already perfect.

Harry has a brilliant sense of the dramatic as well as the effective when it comes to the purely magical side, and between his charisma and his personal experience the Caligati who have sworn to follow him are devoted and happy to be so - but he is still somewhat lacking in the general aesthetics of his position, even with Draco’s instruction.

Finally they end up in what will become the War Room, which already holds a huge, heavy table, but nothing else.

Draco hops onto the table, which looks like it may have been standing in this castle, virtually unchanged, since the Norman Conquest. “It looks good, love.” he says, swinging his heels gently. “Why haven’t we started moving anything or anyone in yet?”

“In part because if it needs any renovations I wanted to complete them before the people and furniture come in, with all their attendant mess.” Harry supplies. “Also, I’ve been through the place four times so far and I suspect I still haven’t found all of the hidden rooms, concealed passages, traps, and escape routes.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh my.” he says faintly.

“Best to know beforehand. I think I’ll have found everything soon, though.” Harry continues blithely. “Just not a good idea to ignore those possibilities. Particularly since I suspect this particular base of operations may become a frequent target for-”

Draco tugs Harry down for a kiss, because he really doesn’t need to hear this just now.

“While I am glad to hear you are planning for the white-hat brigade, don’t you think someone _else_ could have taken on this job?” he asks against Harry’s mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caligati is Latin for Soldiers, used as the title for Dark Lord Harry's followers, as usual.
> 
> Loosely inspired by #52 from Peter Anspach’s Evil Overlord list:  
> ✦ I will hire a team of board-certified architects and surveyors to examine my castle and inform me of any secret passages and abandoned tunnels that I might not know about.


	11. Marietta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted October 31st, 2012.

“Oh, why would I want to go _back_?”

Harry eyed Marietta with open curiosity. “Well, you have been working with that silly little ‘resistance’ movement.” he pointed out, without any air of suspicion or lingering resentment.

Marietta smiled a little wider, leaned further forwards, opened her eyes, big and blue and sweet. “I would never have done anything to hurt you!” she said sincerely. “As if I could.”

She forced a pout, leaning back, grinning inwardly as Harry relaxed a little more, tipping his head. _That’s it, a little closer, you moron._

“I . . . really _admire_ you, you know?” Marietta said breathlessly, chest heaving with _conviction_.

It was really almost too ea-

Harry burst out laughing. “Oh. Oh, dear Merlin, Morgana, and Mordred. I can’t do it any more.” he said weakly.

“I. . . _What?_ ” Marietta said faintly.

“You know, I was quite surprised to hear they decided upon this tactic.”

Marietta jumped at the smooth voice.

There was a slender man in the doorway, an emerald silk robe draped carelessly around him - his only covering, from platinum blonde crown to long, pale feet.

It was the kind of infuriatingly effortless allure that infuriated Marietta even as she coveted it. He’d been pretty at school, but now. . . Whatever he’d been doing with this dark bastard, it suited him.

“Even more surprised you let it proceed so far.” Draco said, flicking his fingers. “Now that you’ve broken your deception, though . . . can’t she wait?”

Harry’s eyes hadn’t strayed once since the interruption, Marietta noticed, and now he rose as if on strings.

“Of course. Grace, I’m sure you understand. . .” Harry said distractedly. “My Consort does love . . . getting his way.”

It wasn’t until Harry firmly locked the door behind himself and his _Consort_ \- how had they missed _that_? - that Marietta realised. . .

Grace. Her _real_ name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, loosely inspired by Peter Anspach’s Evil Overlord List, this time #43:  
> ✦ I will maintain a healthy amount of skepticism when I capture the beautiful rebel and she claims she is attracted to my power and good looks and will gladly betray her companions if I just let her in on my plans.


	12. Procedure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted November 1st, 2012.

Draco eyed the men on the doorstep with some disdain - though the precise level of his displeasure with their very existence was assisted by the fact that their arrival had ended his lazy morning.

“So. . .” he drawled. “You are?”

“We’re the ‘inspect and repair’ men.” one informed him, self-importantly.

“We’re ‘ere to look over the standard wards you’ve got in place.” the other elaborated, with an ingratiating smile.

Draco looked at the guard who had summoned him. Mackenzie. Of course it was, the vengeful twit - she was probably remembering last month, when one of Draco’s missteps had called her out of _her_ bed.

“We _do_ have a procedure for this.” he reminded her.

Mackenzie grinned at him and winked, side-on. “Oh, of course, your highness.”

Draco closed his eyes momentarily, but he no longer flinched at the title, whether in this form or the more common ‘Prince Consort’. Closed eyes didn’t block out the mumbled mess of dropped consonants from the other side of the threshold, however.

Something about how they’d known that the master of the place didn’t need to be summoned just for _them_?

“Just. . . Deal with them, Mackenzie. And I know you know the standard procedure, so if I’m woken for this nonsense again you and I shall have _words_.”

“Yes, your highness.” Mackenzie said smartly, not intimidated, but accepting the line he had drawn - one of the reasons she was among Harry’s most favoured. “Convey my regards to himself, would you? I’ve a question for him.”

Draco raised an eyebrow and turned back to her, even as she raised her wand and directed it at the two ‘repair men’, who slowly crumpled in silent agony.

“Come up after I’ve talked some tea into him, at least.” he instructed. “I’ll ensure he’s time set aside for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Peter Anspach’s Evil Overlord List - Cell Block B, #205:  
> ✦ All repair work will be done by an in-house maintenance staff. Any alleged "repairmen" who show up at the fortress will be escorted to the dungeon.


	13. Misstep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted November 2nd, 2012.

Theo woke suddenly - he always had, a useful talent at school, in the snake pit - but found himself incapable of moving more than necessary to open his eyes and look around.

Not that he could see anything; there was an inescapable blackness so stark that it seemed to be pressing in on him, almost painful against his eyes.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

The call was made in a cheery voice that was completely at odds with the oppressive nature of the space in which he was trapped.

“ _Excellent._ ”

The additional word was deeper, a tone with layers of _meaning_ to it, and . . . much more fitting with the blackness and the few tiny noises he could make out.

None of that was in any way comforting.

A quick, barely-there touch along the outside of his thigh, and Theo thought that might have been . . . fingers?

“You see,” and now the cheerful voice was back, only now, this time, it sent his heart racing with even more terror than the overtly dark one had, “you _touched_ what is _mine_.”

Theo opened his mouth and only managed to babble out something confusedly apologetic and terrified.

There was a dark chuckle, and the fingers softly patted his cheek this time. “You’ll just have to wait. Draco does so hate to be kept waiting himself. . .”

That did it. Theo remembered . . . remembered what he had done. He couldn’t imagine that a bit of harmless flirting with an old schoolmate had really- But then again. . .

“I’ll be back for you later, have no fears.” Harry assured him, light and cheery, and there was a brush of air, and then Theo heard something moving in the space above him.

Draco _had_ taken up with the maddest wizard they knew. Theo wished he’d remembered that sooner, as the man’s footsteps retreated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark Lords may on occasion take possessiveness too far. >.> Draco is all right with this, probably rather revels in it, but it may be a bit rough on assorted other people.


	14. Interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted November 3rd, 2012.

Harry groaned above him, in a tone entirely different to the ones preceding it, and Draco tried to frown but lost it in a gasp as Harry’s hand slid down to tighten on his hip, canting it upwards and pulling them together more forcefully.

The banging on the door did _not_ go away, and Draco whined in a way that would probably embarrass him if he wasn’t quite so lost in pleasure as Harry drew away, slow and obviously reluctant.

“Ooh, _do_ something to him. . . Please. . .” Draco complained, as Harry drew a sheet over them and waved a hand at the door.

“Now, now. Not if it’s something important.” Harry admonished, though his voice was thick and rough. “On the other hand, if it is something so patently ridiculous as a report on what sandwiches the bloody Order have brought in for _tea_ again. . .”

Draco made a stifled, ugly sound.

“Then you may do as you bloody like with whoever it is.” Harry finished, casting his eyes heavenwards before focusing on the doorway.

“I’m very sorry, my Lord.” Steenwyke, just inside the room, made a small bow. “Lord Malfoy.” he added, including the Prince Consort in his apology. “You ordered immediate reports if the wards on the Starlit Stones flickered at all . . . and they went down completely for two minutes forty seconds.”

Harry groaned and flopped onto the bed beside Draco, apparently uncaring that the movement dislodged most of the sheet from him. Draco petted his shoulder soothingly, and Steenwyke offered them an understanding smile.

“I suppose you’d better handle it.” Draco was reluctant, but steadfast. “It _is_ important, if it’s the Starlit Stones.”

Harry turned his face into Draco’s side, just where it dipped at his waist, and groaned again.

“Don’t keep me waiting for long.” Draco said imperiously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by one of my favourites from Peter Anspach’s Evil Overlord List, #91:  
> ✦ I will not ignore the messenger that stumbles in exhausted and obviously agitated until my personal grooming or current entertainment is finished. It might actually be important.


	15. Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted November 4th, 2012.

Draco had been reluctantly fighting towards full awareness for some time, not certain what was drawing him upwards from restful sleep, but now something stilled him, nervous and hyperaware.

“Are you going to open those striking eyes soon?”

Draco tensed, distantly recognising the voice but too groggy to identify why it should worry him, aside from its presence in his bedroom at three in the morning.

With no other recourse, he opened his eyes, turning over. He found a shadowy figure sitting in the moonlight streaming through the French doors to his balcony. The figure had nearly glowing green eyes, intently focused on Draco’s own.

“What are you doing _here_?” Draco hissed, shoving himself upright.

Harry chuckled in low tones and shook his head, leaning forwards to rest his jaw on his fist. Draco realised that he wasn’t frightened in the slightest, though this man was the youngest dark lord in history, and had many reasons to loathe him personally.

“You really are something special, aren’t you, you gorgeous creature?” Harry murmured, not seeming to expect an answer. “I’m here for you, of course.”

“Planning to kill me horribly in retribution for being such a prat at school?” Draco asked dryly, making himself comfortable against the headboard.

“Not by half.” Harry replied playfully. “In fact. . . I came because I . . . _want_ you.” he said, more serious now, caressing Draco’s knuckles, then capturing one fine-boned hand.

Draco turned his hand over within the clasp of Harry’s - which was loose enough to allow it easily - and tapped his index finger against Harry’s thumb. “I suspect I should be panicking right about now, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, I would rather you skipped that bit and came over here to k-”

Before Harry could finish speaking, Draco had straddled his lap, dragging him into a kiss.


	16. Menace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted November 13th, 2012.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Martins’ dour expression made it clear that he wasn’t, even before he shook his head firmly. “No. I want you-”

“I heard you the first bleedin’ time, and I’m not doing it!” Greg almost shouted. “I am _not_ going near the Potter . . . _menace_!”

“I know he’s . . . caused difficulty for others who tried similar attacks, but-”

“Forget that! I mean, yeah, the man’s a pain in the arse with Merlin’s own luck, but . . . I’m not risking brassing off _Malfoy_.” Greg said, shuddering.

“. . .Potter’s prissy lover?” Martins laughed. “You’re afraid of Potter’s blonde bit of fluff? Why could you possibly-”

“Because like most _sane_ people, I like my skin on the _outside_ of my body!” Greg snapped.

Martins blanched, but Greg didn’t give him a chance to continue, whatever he might have said.

“He may be a spoilt aristocratic brat, but he’s got a bloody temper, and a nasty way of showing it, particularly when anyone gets anywhere _near_ Potter.”

Martins frowned. “Fine. We’re still going ahead with the plan, but I’ll get Lousen to go after Potter.”

Greg snorted. “Hope you want rid of him, then. Guarantee you, won’t be pretty. If you get anything back at all.”


	17. Perhaps Just Terrible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted November 25th, 2012.

“. . .did that man seriously just say . . . what I think he did?” Ron muttered out of the side of his mouth, eyes still fixed on the . . . ‘Dark Lord’ facing them down.

Harry merely blinked, discarding the momentary flash of disbelief to scan the shadowy copse behind the man, checking for his reinforcements - few - and gathering as much information as he could without being obvious - little, but they were obviously inexperienced and cowed, not likely to be fanatically devoted or particularly skilled.

“Shudder before my great and terrible might?” Draco repeated. “Yes, indeed he did. He needs a ghost-writer.” he added dryly, glancing sideways at Ron with a half-conspiratorial, half-mocking smirk. “I would never allow Harry to say that.”

“Perhaps.” Hermione said. “Don’t you think, however, that we could all be focusing a little more on _dealing_ with him first, and _then_ we can mock him?”

“My thoughts precisely. And Draco?” Harry paused, smothering a grin. “From the time you spend scolding me, most would assume I’d be like as not to break out with something every bit as bad.”

Draco frowned. “Not _quite_.” he muttered, but followed Harry’s lead without further comment as they broke the impasse with a head-on attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps this was a little bit inevitable after the string of Dark Harry drabbles I wrote.


	18. Bloody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted December 13th, 2012.

Draco frowned at the man curled on the ground before him, wrenching his lightweight rapier free. The man twitched, but when Draco looked more closely, he didn’t seem to be breathing.

Draco sighed and turned around, scanning the field of battle for any further pockets that required cleanup. Not surprisingly, his fiancé was at the centre of the only remaining fighting.

Draco stalked towards Harry, not bothering to hurry, picking his way around pools of mud and blood and around bodies as he went. By the time he reached Harry, his last opponent was choking on blood, the body of the second to last still falling, his head at least a metre away.

Harry turned, his heavy hand-and-a-half sword flicking up at the tip for a moment before he recognised Draco and lowered it to his side.

“Draco! You’re unhurt, love?” Harry asked brightly, apparently unconcerned about the bleeding gash in his upper arm, or the dark blood - probably arterial spray - thick across the bridge of his nose, his cheek, and his lips.

“I’m fine.” Draco said dryly, crooking his fingers at his fiancé.

Harry obeyed, _not_ bothering to avoid the muck on his way to Draco, he noted, with a long-suffering sigh. Not that it would make that much difference - Harry’s boots, trousers, and robes were all bloody and muddy already.

“Come here, pet. . .” Draco coaxed, sliding his free hand around beneath Harry’s jaw to cup the nape of his neck, drawing him close.

Harry complied, though he made a small startled noise when Draco kissed him, before he moaned, throwing himself fiercely into reciprocating. The blood Draco had ignored on Harry’s lips was still slick and hot - from the man he’d just beheaded, then.

Draco tightened his fingers in Harry’s hair and bit his lower lip, sucking teasingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame or thanks for the above drabble go to my friend [DomesticatedChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DomesticatedChaos/), who encouraged me to do it, and also the fun I've had with writing some vampire stories recently.


	19. The Shadow Lord's Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted December 19th, 2012.

Draco sighed, rolling over and propping himself on one elbow. He’d known sleep wouldn’t come even when his lover had curled close behind him for a time before abandoning their bed.

Harry was still there, though, across the room, poring through records left by prior holders of his title - Shadow Lord.

He had considerately set up a magical filter - if Draco looked directly, his light was visible, but otherwise, the room was comfortably dark.

It seemed like rather a lot of trouble when there was a perfectly serviceable, comfortable study down the hall.

“Harry?” Draco murmured, barely raising his voice, not wanting to disturb his lover if he was on the cusp of discovery - or if he was likely to be testy.

Harry discarded the scroll, almost careless, and made his way back to the bed. “Yes, my dear one?” He leaned over Draco, sliding a hand through his hair.

Draco closed his eyes, humming happily at the sensation, but forced himself not to back down on this question. Not this time.

“Harry, what- That is-” he stopped and swallowed, nervous. He had been too _nervous_ to ask this for three years, since a shadowy figure had appeared in his bedroom to take his hand. “What am I to you?”

Harry looked. . . Harry looked adorable and confused.

“You’re my lover, Draco.” Harry said slowly. “I don’t understand. You’re _mine_ and . . . I love you. What- Where did I fail to make that clear?” Rather than angry, he sounded almost frantic, eyes wide as he clasped Draco’s shoulders.

Draco smiled, biting his lip. “You haven’t, love. I’m only . . . being silly. Come back to bed?” he coaxed.

Harry immediately dismissed the light he’d been using, and Draco watched with a new perspective - wondering how he’d missed so obvious a thing for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for this drabble was a suggestion (asked for) from a particular fan of my drabble series (M3mnoch7, on FF.net, of course) who loved my Dark Harry stories:  
> I have been thinking a turning point in Dark Harry and Draco's relationship. Draco asking "What am I to you Harry? Where do I stand in your grand scheme of things?" Something like that which would build off of the Drabble of when they first got together in Draco's bedroom.


	20. Retaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted February 2nd, 2013.
> 
> Written upon request for M3mnoch7, who left the 2,000th review for my Harry/Draco drabble series on FF.net.

Draco couldn’t quite release his hold on his lover, even long enough to look around this place - which smelled rather more like fire and death than it had when they first dragged him through to the cells.

Harry was holding him just as tightly, though, and Draco allowed himself to bask in the familiar clasp.

He felt a little like a swooning princess, clinging to Harry, but supposed he deserved it after the week he’d had.

“Draco. . .” Harry said, voice low and rough.

Draco shivered, and Harry dragged him into a passionate, possessive kiss. He moaned, melting beneath it, and Harry growled, pushing him back, muttering a pair of spells.

Draco gasped, surprised, finding himself suddenly nude, but the familiar magic sliding inside him only prompted a moan. He wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist as Harry pressed him against the wall.

“Fuck, _now_ , Harry. . .” Draco urged, not in the mood to wait.

Harry huffed something that was almost a laugh, then obliged, both of them crying out as Harry pushed into him.

“You belong to me, Draco.” Harry said roughly, nipping Draco’s neck as he set a harsh pace that had Draco ready to fall to pieces almost instantly.

“Yes, yes, come _on_ , yes!” Draco demanded, pulling Harry’s hair. “Salazar take it, you’ve proven it to them, now prove it to _me_!”

Harry groaned, forcing Draco a little higher, his thrusts hard enough to flirt with pain on both sides now. “You,” Harry panted, “are _mine_ , Draco Malfoy. For always.” His eyes glowed.

Harry’s orgasm spilled into him, and Draco keened, one touch of his lover’s hand bringing him over as well.

“Always.” Draco repeated hazily. “Love you.”

Harry kissed his fingertips. “Love you, gorgeous.” he replied, as Draco felt a familiar caress; Harry’s magic was taking them _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The request was:  
> I just want an extremely smexy scene between Draco and Dark Harry. I was thinking Draco had been captured or held captive and Harry had recently saved him and then makes up for lost time in the bedroom.


	21. Dark Celery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Dark Harry story, but an intentionally silly one this time!

“What dark ritual are you planning now, _Dark Lord_?” Ron demanded, red-faced and practically puffing himself up.

Harry blinked, then paused, thinking carefully. “Er. . . I . . . wasn’t?” he said slowly. He didn’t _think_ he’d forgotten anything. . .

“Celery! You stole celery!” Ron shouted. “I have no bleeding clue why, or what the hell you can do with it, but I demand to know!”

Harry blinked again. His brows drew together. “I. . . You think the _celery_ was part of a dark ritual? _Seriously_?” he almost pouted. “I _like vegetables_ , okay? And I was _going_ to pay for the stuff, until your lot of ridiculously inept Aurors blundered all over everything!”

Draco rubbed one temple. As powerful as his lover was, and as delighted as Draco was with his power and position . . . sometimes Harry was not _quite_ Dark Lord material.

At least on the outside, Draco reminded himself more cheerfully, contemplating the man who had died with his blood boiling in his veins last month.

“I don’t believe you! You’re doing something- Something _dark_!” Ron yelled as Draco resumed paying attention.

“What, I’m a Dark Lord so I can’t like vegetables? What do you _want_ from me, damn it!” Harry shouted back.

Draco sighed, glancing at the shocked, silent people, from both factions, standing around and staring at the two old friends, now enemies.

A complicated bit of wand-work and the entire lot of them were squealing and thrashing as they fell to the floor. They quieted quickly, but continued to twitch, even as Draco picked his way among them towards his lover.

Harry was staring at the redhead on the floor some ten paces away, startled.

“Harry, pet, you are lucky I’m fond of you or _you_ would be twitching on the floor, too. ‘I like vegetables’, honestly. . .” Draco tsked, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Result of a discussion with and dare from my friend [Mikkimouse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse), after I had helped her research something for a novel she was working on (in May of 2013, oops, as this is only just now being posted November of 2017; and yes, it was the use of celery in a legit dark ritual, for serious reasons).


	22. The Perfect Evil Robe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one my friend M suggested/inspired.

“Hey baby,” Harry kissed Draco’s cheek as he tipped his head up, expectant, “what are you up to?”

Draco arched an eyebrow, twisting to angle a _look_ at him, then handed another bolt of material back to the tailor without answering. “Something like this but less clingy would be appropriate.” he continued, moving away and rifling through the example robes the tailor had brought.

He paused, watching Harry fling himself lazily onto a broad lounger. His lover was wearing denims that had shredded around the hems and was threadbare everywhere else, and- Draco frowned. He was _sure_ he had set fire to that shirt - _accidentally_ \- a month ago.

“How do you intend to strike fear into anyone’s hearts dressed like _that_?” Draco asked, lips pursed.

Harry grinned, propping himself on one elbow. “Is that what you’re doing? Picking out terrifying clothing?”

“ _Commissioning_ terrifying clothing,” Draco said with a wry smirk, “thank you very much, _my lord_.”

Harry made a face, and Draco laughed fondly. “Ah, your highness?”

Draco turned and frowned at the sketch the tailor was holding out. “ _No_ , no dagged sleeves, I am not an evil queen from a fairy story.” he snapped, and Harry giggled behind him.


	23. Home

“I don’t think you understand,” Harry growled, a twitch of his wand driving the knife a little higher under the wizard’s ribcage as he leaned close enough to feel the blood dripping over his fingers, “so let me-”

“Honey.”

Harry stiffened, jerking sideways and looking over his shoulder. Draco stood in the doorway, wan and slightly ashy but under his own power.

Harry’s heart clenched painfully and his fingers, slick with blood, slipped on the polished wood of his wand.

“Love, it’s all right,” Draco said, carefully moving away from the doorframe he’d been leaning on and towards Harry, “just kill him and take me home.”

Too-quick breaths catching on the lump in his throat, Harry flicked his wand, loosing the magic holding the knife and allowing the wizard to slump to the floor as he turned towards his lover. “Draco. Darling.” He held out his arms, shaking a little.

Draco came into them with a sigh, leaning heavily against him. Harry stroked his lover’s silvery hair with his unbloodied hand. “You’re all right?”

“I will be.” Draco drew back enough to sneer down at the near-catatonic wizard. “Pathetic.” He lifted his jaw, then tilted his head, meeting Harry’s eyes again. “I just want to go home.” he said, expression pinched.

“As you wish, darling.” Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to Draco’s cheek and flicking his wand over his shoulder without looking. A wretched scream echoed around them as the spell hit, but Harry barely spared a glance for the dying wizard as he wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist, pulling him close before Apparating away.

Draco was stiff in his embrace, but as the wards of their home settled around them he wrapped his own arms around Harry in return, leaning his head against Harry’s with a soft sigh.


	24. Battle Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this back in May and then forgot about it before editing and posting (possibly due to being busy with other things) but here we are!

“Ugh.” Draco snorted delicately by his left shoulder. “Not _again_.”

“What can I say?” Harry said wryly. “I trained them well when I was at school.”

He scanned the handful of familiar faces with a fond smile for the memories of training the D.A. One of the unfamiliar faces crumpled under a purple light streaking from behind him on his left.

“Once _again_ your Gryffindorishness proves exceptionally irritating.” Draco said disapprovingly.

“Past Gryffindorishness.” Luna said, voice floatily idle, as though she had not a care in the world. “Harry’s current decisions are guided better by the Gollmars.”

“See Draco? My current decisions are ever so much better. Stop fussing.” Harry said, flicking his wand and knocking out another of their opponents before the battle could properly begin.

“Never.” Draco huffed almost playfully.

“Which do you want?” Luna asked, wand swirling lazily between the three remaining wizards, who looked somewhat warier after the thinning of their ranks.

“I’ll take Wardsley,” Draco said after a considering sort of hum, “his face _irks_ me.”

“Poor Dragon.” Harry crooned, and sidestepped rapidly as his beloved consort flicked a lash hex at him. He laughed.

“I’ll take Towler.” Luna declared, looking at him and curtseying. He stopped, looking bewildered. Luna had that effect on most people in _all_ situations, and it made her even more effective as a dueller.

“Leaving Weasley for me?” Harry sighed, glancing at Percy. “Never mind poor Dragon, poor _me_. He’ll be no fun at all.” he complained, moving slowly forwards. He doubted Percy had become any more creative or impressive a dueller since last Harry had seen him in battle.

“Do well enough and I’ll make up for the boring battle you’ve had to endure later.” Draco promised in a low, sultry tone, kissing Harry’s cheek before sweeping away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hey or throw Drarry feels at me over on [Tumblr](http://kalira9.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SerenaMarceaux) if you like.


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